


not eternity

by helloearthlings



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Magic-Users, Minor Violence, Modern Era, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:49:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloearthlings/pseuds/helloearthlings
Summary: They weren’t out of the woods yet, Lancelot thought as he numbly started pumping against the man’s chest; if he had water in his lungs…any at all…he’d only been in the water for a moment before Lancelot had caught him, but it had been a struggle to get to shore and Lancelot may have done something wrong, something irreversible…Lancelot was just about to ask for a little help when Merlin’s voice, strangled and shaky, interrupted.“Arthur?”





	not eternity

**Author's Note:**

> I never write Lancelot, which is very unfortunate, as he's very sweet and I love him. This is literally just my love of modern magic AUs combined with my love for medical-related angst. Regular disclaimer that I know nothing about medicine and that there are bound to be inaccuracies, but there's magic so no one can blame me for anything. 
> 
> Hope you like it, please comment if you do!

The street was eerily quiet that night, Lancelot noted. Usually, quiet was a good thing. Quiet meant no one was hurting. Quiet meant no one was in danger.

But eerily quiet meant that maybe someone was, and he just couldn’t see it, couldn’t tell, by senses alone.

Thankfully, he had Merlin for that.

Lancelot nudged his partner on the arm as the two of them slowly meandered their way streetlight to streetlight, a hazy dusky glow over the dark, cold night. “Is anything amiss?”

Merlin, eyes sharp and assessing as he glanced about the neighborhood, said “No. No sign of magical activity anywhere.”

Lancelot shivered and drew his jacket more tightly around himself, but not because of the cold. “Radar says that there are watchers on the next corner,” he said as he checked his watch for the alert.

Merlin nodded, then blinked, eyes flashing golden yellow. Lancelot didn’t feel any differently, but he knew that the two of them were invisible to the naked eye now, that the watchers wouldn’t be able to sense their presence unless they wanted them to.

It was amazing, what Merlin could do with a blink. Lancelot was transfixed by it every time. A year of partnership and he still couldn’t get used to the way the gold infused Merlin’s eyes.

It was different with Merlin, different from the other sorcerers Lancelot knew and protected. They were just using magic; magic was a part of Merlin, a part as natural as breathing. It looked unquestionably _right_ when Merlin performed magic, like there was no other way it could be.

Lancelot’s watch beeped; Merlin turned sharply to silence it with a glare as two officers clad in black robes crossed the adjoining street.

“Sorry,” Lancelot whispered, even though it was hardly his fault when Headquarters decided to contact them. Merlin’s raised eyebrow clearly meant that Lance had no need to apologize; Merlin wasn’t the type to get angry over nothing.

“What’s the word?” Merlin bounced on the heels of his feet and Lancelot nearly laughed at the childishness of it. He and Merlin had that in common; the adrenaline, the need to be _doing_ something, preferably saving someone. It drove them both from their cores.

“An agent pressed their emergency alarm,” Lancelot winced as the encoded message came through. That usually meant dealing with watchers, but it also usually meant a good fight. “Hopefully this isn’t like the Gilly Incident again.”

“Don’t talk about it,” Merlin scrunched up his face in annoyance; it had been he and Gwaine that had to bail Gilly out of that unfortunate mess when Gilly had accidentally pressed his emergency button in his sleep and Merlin and Gwaine had launched themselves halfway across the city only to have Gilly be discovered as a plant when they showed up.

Gilly wasn’t allowed on undercover assignments anymore. Or solo assignments, for that matter.

“We’re closest,” Lancelot returned to the mission at hand. “I’ll tell them we’re going. They’ve got a trace on our man –”

“Could be a woman,” Merlin said a little absentmindedly, but then he smirked. “Don’t be sexist, Lance.”

Lancelot rolled his eyes. “ – Our man or woman is heading pretty quickly down fourteenth, probably in a vehicle. Looks like they’re headed for the park.”

“Block and a half east,” Merlin rounded the next corner, Lancelot right on his heels. Emergencies could range from anything to being trapped in an awkward situation with questions of true identity, being held under suspicion for possession of magical talent, or being locked in a duel to the death with a watcher.

It was close to midnight; the later at night, the more likely the death duel.

Lancelot was hoping for something a little tamer, but he and Merlin sprinted the rest of the way to the park, a good vantage of fourteenth street above them.

“See them?” Lancelot panted as they slowed, reaching the river. The park was on the other side; Lancelot hadn’t been there in years, not since before the Reorder, but he knew that since then a bronze statue of Uther Pendragon had been erected at the park’s center, a showing of the eradication of the evils of magic from the world.

It made the children feel safer, Lancelot remembered reading, and something ugly twisted in his stomach.

“No, but I can feel them coming,” Merlin, eyes locked on the horizon line. “Three people, including ours. Their car just stopped. Vibrations are gone. I can’t sense any magic, so I would guess its watchers and not the League.”

The League was another rebel group, one that was a much bigger fan of chaos and destruction rather than peaceful transition, and thought all those without magic should be eradicated, just as the Reorder believed all those with magic should.

The Resistance was the only group with any weight who believed in peace. The League had killed Resistance members before, but never one with magic.

But Lance knew that not all of their operatives had magic. He was among them. The League would kill him without a second thought.

But the Reorder was equally as dangerous; though they didn’t have the advantage of magic to do their deeds, they had society at their beck and call. They had a world that believed in their righteousness. All in all, the Resistance was the most disadvantaged.

But the most right, Lancelot reminded himself every day.

“Does the operative have magic?” Lancelot breathed out, staring at the bridge above them, quiet and peaceful in the moonlight, waiting for the peace to be broken. If Merlin couldn’t sense any magic…

“No,” Merlin whispered, voice scratchy, “No one. Unless someone’s unconscious…or already…”

Lancelot swallowed hard. “They only pressed the emergency button a few minutes ago. The captors would’ve had to be driving. I’m sure…”

He trailed off as he noticed dark figures – it looked like three, they all seemed to be men – approaching the bridge.

Two of them appeared to be dragging another one.

Merlin moved as if to run, but Lancelot grabbed the cuff of his shirt.

“Wait,” Lancelot whispered, strangled. “We’re a level below them. If you start flying at them or anything crazy, they might shoot our man.”

“Still not convinced they’re a man,” Merlin said through gritted teeth, and Lancelot would have laughed if the situation were not so heavy. “Alright, we’ll wait. But if I see…. _Shit_.”

The two captors were hard to make out in the dark, but a streetlight illuminated them as they crossed the threshold of the bridge and Lancelot got a good look for the first time. Two watchers, dressed entirely in black, dragging a man between them. Lancelot couldn’t get a good look at his face from this distance, but he could see the startling red color on his face, his clothing.

“He’s not dead,” Merlin started shaking, “but he will be when they throw him off the bridge.”

Lancelot’s heart was in his chest as Merlin kept talking, “Here’s the plan. We wait until he’s thrown off –”

Lancelot made a loud, choking noise in protest. Merlin was too kind for that, too gentle, had too much of a value of human life –

“– And I’ll slow his fall,” Merlin finished and Lancelot’s nerves calmed just slightly. “I’ll chase the watchers and you catch him before he falls.”

“I’m jumping in the lake?” Lance shot back, but not with much bite. He just needed somewhere to put his energy.

Merlin grinned at him, teeth white even in the dark. “And preferably swimming very quickly.”

They were quiet for three seconds, three seconds it took for the captors to get the man to the center of the bridge, their figures obscured in darkness once again. Lancelot would’ve been worried that they had thrown the man off already if not for the tightness of Merlin’s stance, the preparation he was gathering.

Merlin whispered something in another language, Lancelot felt a golden stab of magic rush through the air, and he took that as his cue to run like hell.

Lancelot didn’t give himself time to think about how cold the water would be, or the sound of Merlin running in the opposite direction; he catapulted into the river with only one thought in his head – get below the bridge before their man did.

The water was like ice, but Lancelot could barely feel it, the adrenaline in his veins pumping, thrumming throughout his entire body. He forced himself onwards and onwards, his only thought a vague wondering if the man could swim, then realizing it didn’t matter because he was unconscious, or at least incapable of movement.

Lancelot cracked an eye open when he came up for air and realized the bridge was only a meter or two away. He looked up for the man –

He was spiraling just above Lancelot, his fall monumentally slowed, but he would hit the water. He would hit the water.

Shuddering, Lancelot launched himself at full speed in the man’s direction, hoping praying hoping praying –

The next thing he knew, Lancelot’s arms were around the man, forcing him upwards from the icy depths. Lancelot took a huge breath, struggling to keep the man’s weight above water. He looked to the man’s face – it was sagged and unresponsive. He was still unconscious.

Lancelot moved them inch by inch toward the shoreline, eyes blurry with water and tears as he surged against the current, not allowing himself to be lost in it. The man’s heaviness seemed to dissipate after a minute, or perhaps Lancelot’s arms had just gone numb.

Finally, what seemed like no time and all the time in the world later, he hauled the man up onto the grassy shore. They were on the side of the park now. Vaguely, as he felt for the man’s pulse, Lancelot wondered if Uther Pendragon’s statue was watching them, judging them, from afar.

They weren’t out of the woods yet, Lancelot thought as he numbly started pumping against the man’s chest; if he had water in his lungs…any at all…he’d only been in the water for a moment before Lancelot had caught him, but it had been a struggle to get to shore and Lancelot may have done something wrong, something irreversible…

He didn’t realize how close Merlin was until his partner shouted at him from the foot of the bridge, disgust in his tone, “They got away! Two watchers. Killed themselves with capsules the second they saw my face. Guess I must be getting famous or something. What happened to –”

Lancelot was just about to ask for a little help when Merlin’s voice, strangled and shaky, interrupted.

“ _Arthur_?”

Lancelot barely had time to react before Merlin skidded to the ground on the man’s other side, his face grimy and shaky, his features obscured by tears that weren’t there a moment ago.

Merlin made eye contact with Lancelot for just one moment, and it was the most terrified Lancelot had ever seen his partner. Merlin didn’t scare easily; Merlin was more powerful than anything else. But now, his eyes were crazed, blurry, terrified.

Merlin leaned down to press his lips against the man’s, breathing into his lungs as Lancelot kept pumping his hands against the man’s chest.

Lancelot sagged backward in relief as the man sputtered water of his mouth. Merlin held a hand out in front of his nose to feel for breath and nearly cried in relief a moment later; the man would be alright.

Arthur, Lancelot remembered. _Arthur_ would be alright.

He looked at his partner curiously. Merlin’s hand stayed on Arthur’s chest, the other reaching up to cup his cheek tenderly.

“He’s bleeding,” Merlin whispered, his voice a million miles away as Lancelot leaned back over the man. The blood he could see all the way up from the bridge, that hadn’t been a concern up until now, had mixed with the water on the man’s skin to create translucent pink instead of bright red. “He must’ve gotten clocked on the back of the head…”

Merlin whispered a quiet word, a golden glow filled the empty space between his body and Arthur’s, and though the blood on the clothes didn’t disappear, Lancelot knew that the wound had been closed up.

Arthur, as if in reaction to this, coughed again, water spurting from his mouth. His eyes remained closed.

Merlin, however, gasped at the sound and his grip on Arthur grew tighter. “Arthur? Arthur, it’s me, it’s Merlin. Can you hear me?”

Arthur remained still.

“He’s so cold…” Merlin’s voice cracked and Lancelot realized that his ever-pragmatist of a partner wasn’t going to be able to keep a clear head right now. He wasn’t sure why, but Lancelot knew it was his job to be Merlin’s head when his could only focus on Arthur.

“Merlin, we need to get him back to Headquarters,” Lancelot said quietly, firmly, “before any other watchers notice us. And you know that you’re the only one who can get us there unobstructed. I’ll take care of Arthur, okay? You can trust me to take care of him.”

Merlin, eyes glassy, gave Arthur one last look, one last squeeze, and then nodded in Lancelot’s direction.

“I’ll get us home,” he said, voice steely even as his body shook, and Lancelot recognized his partner again.

-

Gaius greeted them at the door of the basement apartment. Merlin had sent a signal letting him know they would need immediate medical help the moment they arrived.

Merlin and Lancelot kept Arthur secure between the two of them; Lancelot could’ve carried Arthur on his own but Merlin was having trouble letting go of the other man, even for a moment.

“Arthur,” Gaius’s eyes grew wide at the doorway; Lancelot wondered if everyone knew of this man but him. “Get him inside immediately. Second floor medical bay.”

Only the top floor of Headquarters was the basement apartment. Gwen and Leon kept up the pretense of living in it, two ordinary people with ordinary lives. Beneath it was a labyrinth of rooms, corridors, stretching down into the earth and across the city.

Not really, of course. It was all magic. The magic of every sorcerer who kept refuge there contributed to keeping the place in existence, in the realm of the real and the not all at once. Merlin, Lancelot was well-aware, probably contributed more to Headquarters than any other sorcerer inside of it a few times over.

They hurried Arthur down the stairs. He had started coughing more on the way back, slowly regaining his sense of consciousness, but it was slow-going.

They stumbled through a crowd of other injuries – a busy night – before getting to Gaius’s workroom and depositing Arthur on the bed.

“You’ve stopped the bleeding,” Gaius assessed immediately, checking Arthur’s pulse. Merlin nodded shakily. “Administered CPR, obviously. That’s the important thing. Where’d you find him?”

“The river next to Pendragon Park,” Lancelot answered and Gaius and Merlin exchanged meaningful looks. Still feeling out of the loop, Lancelot continued. “Two watchers deposited him off the top. Merlin chased them down but they killed themselves first.”

“The myth of the mighty Emrys lives on,” Gaius raised an eyebrow. “Uther’s men, I presume?”

“He must’ve been found out,” Merlin fretted, reaching a hand to smooth back Arthur’s hair. Arthur coughed again. His skin was pale, translucent, the only color the pink of his blood.

“Found out…?” Lancelot said, but no one answered him. Gaius checked Arthur’s vitals; Merlin held his hand.

“Lancelot, you should get some dry clothes,” Gaius said with a glance in his direction, seemingly realizing for the first time that Lancelot was sopping wet, dripping all over the tile floor.

Lancelot hesitated; he wanted to know more. He wanted to make sure that his partner was alright. But as soon as Gaius mentioned it, a shiver ran through his body that he’d been ignoring until now.

“I’ll be back soon,” Lancelot tried to meet Merlin’s eye. Merlin looked up half a second too late, his eyes blinking back tears.

* * *

 

Lancelot returned less than twenty minutes later, after brushing off Gwaine’s incessant questions about what happened. Still feeling chilly, but comfortable and getting warmer by the minute, Lancelot hurried back to Gaius’s workroom.

Gaius wasn’t there when he arrived, but Merlin was; he was in the hospital bed next to Arthur, who slowly had color returning to his cheeks. Merlin’s eyes were closed, his body half-curled around Arthur’s as if he were protecting him from anything that dared touch him.

Lancelot hesitated before knocking lightly on the door. Merlin, thankfully, smiled when he saw Lancelot, his face ragged and tired but altogether whole, tears gone.

“Hey,” Merlin whispered as Lancelot entered the room, slowly lowering himself into the chair next to Arthur’s bed. “Gaius says everything’s going to be fine. It’s only a matter of time until he wakes up.”

“Good,” Lancelot said firmly, and then, more uncertainly, “…Merlin? Who is he? Who is he to you?”

“He’s…” The ghost of a smile flitted across Merlin’s face as if the past were dancing on it. “We’re getting married. In a rainforest. He wanted the beach, I wanted the mountains, so a rainforest is the compromise.”

Lancelot stared; he never knew. Merlin had been his partner for more than a year, and he’d never known that Merlin had a fiancé who was also an operative. Obviously, he had never seen Arthur before tonight. He must have been undercover. Or cloistered somewhere else for safety. Or…

“We’ll be lucky if we get married at all, I know,” Merlin continued, not noticing Lancelot’s inner stewing. “A courthouse wedding would be nothing short of a miracle.”

“How’d you…?” Lancelot trailed off, not knowing where to begin.

“We met before the world went to hell,” Merlin said wistfully, one of his hands on top of Arthur’s, squeezing his fingers. “Back in university. Then the law went through and I tried to run. And he tried to run with me. But we couldn’t get out of the country fast enough. So he hid me until I made connection here. I wanted us to stay here together but…”

Merlin swallowed hard, remembering something he’d rather not. “His father is Uther Pendragon,” Merlin said, and the final puzzle piece went into place.

Uther Pendragon was responsible for making magic illegal. For the persecution and execution of sorcerers across the country. For the hatred that permeated the nation to its very core.

Lancelot stared at Arthur’s pale, still body with new respect. “He knew that the best way to help the Resistance,” Lance filled in, knowing he was right, “was to be a spy.”

“I think he was trying to prove himself,” Merlin said, laughing even though nothing was funny. “Prove that he wasn’t just here for me, but for magic users everywhere. He’s prideful like that. And brave, too. Before he left, we agreed that we’d get married once all this was over. I haven’t seen him for a year and a half. I’ve been so worried – I mean, I’m the great and mighty Emrys now, I’m worried he’ll see me differently, I –”

“Merlin,” Lancelot interrupted gently, “you have _always_ been the great and mighty Emrys. It’s who you are. Now the rest of the world just knows it, too.”

Merlin smiled weakly at Lancelot. “Our only communication has been through his reports. It’s been wedding planning mainly. _Tell my fiancé I refused to get married at the top of Mount Everest. Tell me fiancé that that’s only because he’s too lazy to climb that far._ That sort of thing.”

Lancelot was quiet for a moment, thinking about how much he wished Merlin would have shared this with him. He understood the need for secrecy when it came to someone as important as Uther Pendragon’s son, but he was Merlin’s _partner_.

As if Merlin read his mind, he said, regret heavy in his voice, “I would have told you. It’s just that…I’m so used to secrets. Up until a few years ago, it was always my magic. I guess I just needed to fill the void with a new secret. It’s not that I didn’t trust you, Lance. You’re my partner. My closest friend.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Lancelot reassured him. He and Merlin met eyes, but before either of them could speak, Gaius reentered the room, his face sharp and severe. Lancelot immediately sat up straighter.

“Freya’s having one of her attacks again,” Gaius told Merlin, voice grave. Merlin jolted upward, though he still had a hand secure against Arthur’s. “She won’t let the other medics near here. I thought maybe you’d…”

“I –” Merlin looked wildly down at Arthur and then back to Gaius, his eyes growing wide and panicked. Freya was a tiny, frail teenager who had arrived at Headquarters last month. Her magic was prone to violent outbursts, and it was a well-known fact that only Merlin could calm her down. “I don’t –”

“I’ll look after him,” Lancelot interrupted, rising to his feet, giving Merlin a significant look.

“I want to be here when he wakes up,” Merlin said in barely more than a whisper, but he still rose to his feet as well. He seemed hesitant to step toward the door, however. “Lance, can you get him another blanket? I don’t want him to get cold.”

Lancelot nodded, promising, and Merlin gave Arthur a long look before he hurried after Gaius.

“I hope you know how lucky you are,” Lancelot told Arthur as he pulled another sheet out of the medical supply drawer, “to have a fiancé as brave and kind as Merlin.”

Arthur didn’t respond, but Lancelot liked to think that he agreed.

Lancelot sat, quiet, unmoving, and keeping a watchful eye on Arthur, for about fifteen minutes before the coughing fit began.

At first, it was just small coughs like those Lancelot had already heard before, but then they wouldn’t stop, and then turned into large hacks, gasping for air.

Lancelot jumped up just as Arthur’s eyes flew open.

“Here, here, drink some water,” Lancelot glanced at the door as he grabbed a cup from the bedside table and put it up to Arthur’s mouth. Arthur didn’t reach for it with his hands, but gulped it down all the same. Lancelot willed Merlin to get back soon.

“Where am I?” Arthur gasped out a moment later. “What – what happened –”

His eyes grew larger; he remembered what happened, Lancelot could tell from the heavy resignation in them.

“I think that’s a question that you have to answer for us,” Lancelot said gently. “But we’re at the Headquarters for the Resistance. My name is Lancelot –”

“Right, I pressed my emergency button,” Arthur interrupted, processing all of this with a shudder than ran throughout his body. Lancelot thought about getting him another blanket. “I – my father found me breaking into his work computer. I’d done it a dozen times before, but he’d grown suspicious over time. I tried to reason with him, but he’s not that kind of man. One of his men dragged me outside…talked to my father…I pressed the emergency button just before he knocked me out…the next thing I remember is cold, ice cold…”

“Arthur, it’s all going to be alright,” Lancelot said when Arthur didn’t continue, just stared off into space as if he were reliving a nightmare. Which he probably was.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed with purpose as he looked back up at Lancelot. “I know someone here. At least, I think he’s here. Merlin? Merlin Emrys? Well, you might just know him as Emrys, but he’s Merlin. He’s Merlin to me. Please, I promise I know –”

“Arthur, I’m Merlin’s partner,” Lancelot explained, and Arthur’s face changed to one of wariness. Lancelot quickly corrected, “patrol partner. It was the two of us who fished you out of the river. He’s been with you this whole time. He didn’t want to leave you, but there was an emergency that he needed to deal with elsewhere in the compound.”

“He was here?” Arthur’s eyes traveled the room, wide with shock, and he seemed to realize for the first time the indent on the other side of his bed where Merlin had been laying. “Merlin’s been here? I was dreaming that he was here, but that’s what I always dream…”

Arthur looked away, but Lancelot could tell from his voice that his eyes had filled with tears. Lancelot wondered what it was like to be separated from someone you loved for that long, and a pang went through his chest.

“He will be right back,” Lancelot promised. “Is there anything I can get you? More water? Food? I think food should be okay, I should probably ask Gaius first…”

“Um, a blanket?” Arthur asked, his eyes blinking back tears. “I’m cold.”

Lancelot couldn’t help but laugh. “Merlin hasn’t been able to stop talking about how you’re going to get cold all evening.”

Arthur gave a watery laugh. “What was your name again?”

“Lancelot,” Lancelot handed Arthur another blanket out of the supply cabinet.

Arthur took the blanket graciously with one hand, but stuck his other hand out. “Nice to meet you, Lancelot, I’m Arthur, Merlin’s boyfriend. Well, fiancé. Thanks for fishing me out of the river.”

Lancelot took his hand, laughing congenially. “I hear you’re getting married in the rainforest.”

Arthur scowled. “We’re getting married on the beach, he just hasn’t chosen to accept it yet. He’s very stubborn like that.”

“You could always get married indoors,” Lancelot suggested, and he could tell Arthur had a retort ready for that, but it was cut short by a gasp from the doorway.

Arthur’s face seemed to melt in front of Lancelot’s eyes, his tense features going slack and glassy-eyed and breath heavy just for a moment before eyes sparkling in delight as he said “ _Mer_ lin!”

Lancelot didn’t even have time to look to the doorway, Merlin moved so quickly, and the two were locked in a hug, gripping each other so tightly, and even though Arthur’s was the only face that Lancelot saw, he knew they were both about to dissolve into tears but were trying to stay strong in the face of the other.

“Hi,” Merlin said as they broke apart, and Arthur laughed and laughed as if nothing  funnier had ever been said. “Hi, baby. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Arthur marveled at him, eyes roaming every inch of Merlin’s skin, probably looking for damages. He probably knew how good Merlin could be at hiding those.

“Was it Uther?” Merlin asked, his grip on Arthur’s shoulder going tighter and Arthur’s silence seemed to be answer enough as he pulled Arthur back into a hug. “Shh, it’s gonna be okay. We’re together again, it’s gonna be alright.”

Lancelot slipped quietly from the room, leaving the two alone together, their first time seeing each other in so long. Lancelot wished that he had the kind of courage it took to lead the lives of the great and mighty Emrys and the son of Uther Pendragon, and the kind of heart that would bring two unlike people together.

From the doorway, he heard Merlin say shakily, “So about this marriage thing…we’ve got some priests here, some rabbis, whichever you like. It would have to be an indoor wedding, which are inherently inferior, but I’m so goddamn tired of waiting.”

Lancelot grinned to himself as he heard Arthur say _yes, yes, please_. Inherently inferior or not, his idea of an indoor wedding had won the debate. He was glad to play even the tiniest role in this grand love story, and hoped that someday, the two of them could renew their vows on the beach. Or in the rainforest. Or Mount Everest. Whichever location they argued for next.


End file.
